


Words to the ashes

by TerresDeBrume



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Apologies, Epistolary, Gen, Talking To Dead People
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 12:24:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2651969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerresDeBrume/pseuds/TerresDeBrume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Alec’s coming out didn’t just change Aline’s life.</i>
</p><p>Now with a <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3958726">reply</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words to the ashes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [porcia_catonis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcia_catonis/gifts).



> So, Cat reblogged a meme and I ficced in her askbox.  
> Then I figured I liked diving in Robert's head and exploring the possibility that he might be a highly repressed bi/pan/queer man (haven't decided the specifics yet) and I decided to expand the ficlet a little. Here's the end result... hope you'll enjoy it^^

My dear Michael,

  
  


I don’t know if fire messages can reach you where you are –and to be quite frank, I have no idea if I’ll even dare to send this.

It’s been so long now… I’m old. Or at least old enough to be laughed at by boys as young as we were when we last talked. I have three children… four, I suppose, if you count Stephen Herondale’s son. He turned out a better person than his father was, although I don’t know if I should get any credit for it. You know about my eldest son, Alec, I believe. I can’t remember if I you heard of his birth or not. He has a younger sister, named Isabelle, and a younger brother, Max.

Max is where you are now, I think. I don’t know if you ever met him.

  
  


Alec… Alec turned out to be like you. In all honesty, it terrifies me.

I’m afraid for him. I’m afraid of what people will say or do to him for who he is. I’m afraid of what _I_ may say or do to him for who he is. Of what I might have done already. I’m trying to do right by him though. To understand him. To love him, whatever he decides. It’s hard. But I try, even when it means going through some uncomfortable moments.

I’ve been thinking about you a lot since we learned about him. About the things I said back then, and how I reacted, and why… I was scared, Michael. I remember how even our friends looked at you. I remember the sneers whenever you refused to behave the same way we did –I remember how _I_ sneered at you, because I figured, if I sneered along no one would wonder about me.

  
  


I was a right tit, wasn’t I? I can admit that now. I was scared, and I let you pay for it without reacting.

I’m still not sure who I am, in that respect. I love Maryse. At least, I loved her for a long time. But with time I’ve come to accept that I… wondered. About you. About me. About us. I don’t have many answers yet. Asking the question is all I can really do for now but maybe –just maybe, one day I might have answers.

  
  


I suppose though, that what I wanted to say was that I’m sorry. For what I did and didn’t to you –for you. Both are equally wrong, I suppose.

If this message ever reaches you, I hope you will find it in yourself to forgive me. If it doesn’t I suppose… I suppose I feel better, for having written it. I like to think you would say it’s a good thing, too, but what do I know about you anymore?

  
  


I’m sorry. I miss you.

And I realize now, far, far too late, that I never stopped to be

  
  


Your Parabatai.

Rob.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and reviews make me want to write more!


End file.
